Page 11 of Trucker
But like a good little soldier, I had to do what I had to do.
It turned out I would be staying with one of the town’s folks as the town was so small, it didn’t even have a boarding house. If I’d stayed in the county next door, the commute would be hell. During the summer, motorists used the town as a shortcut to get back to the city.
And with only a two lane road, traffic became somewhat of an issue.
I rolled my eyes.
I wasn’t a fan of staying at someone’s home, a stranger. It especially didn’t sit well with me when I found out my host would be a woman.
Still, I spent the next few days gathering all the resources I was told they didn’t have and had them shipped to the station in Albright.
I had room for some stuff in my truck but not all of it.
The night before leaving, Zoom and the others got together and surprised me with a party. I was fine leaving without any big deal being made about it.
I’d been so busy, I hadn’t suspected a thing.
“Be safe, Uncle Mayson.” Lena told me before kissing my cheek and hugging me.
“You’re coming back, right?” Bishop asked, leaning in.
“Yeah—it’s just training.” I scoffed. “As usual, Zoom is making a mountain out of a mole hill.”
Bishop scrunched his nose after a hug. “And Lena.”
“Small towns creep me out.” Lena pressed her face to his neck making us laugh. “I mean—all those scary movie plots? There has to be some truth in them, right? That can’t all be fiction.”
I smiled and shook my head.
I couldn’t explain to anyone how desperately I adored this child.
Though I sat through the gathering, I wasn’t feeling it. That worried me because parties used to be my thing.
But the older I became, the less I wanted to be in crowds.
The more time passed, the more I felt out of place in a group of people I should be comfortable around. It’d been a worsening sensation, and I wasn’t sure what to do about it.
I wasn’t sure what it all meant and if I was to be honest, I’d admit it worried me.
TAJI SLOANE
“Who hit me with a bus?”I groaned while flipping to my back.
It wasn’t a hang over—six in the morning came fast when you didn’t want it to.
Six was my buffer zone—by right, I didn’t really have to leave until about quarter to seven. But I knew I would dilly-dally in bed for a few minutes, protesting.
I couldn’t put it off any longer.
If I did, what would even be the point now?
I laid in bed, listening to my alarm blaring from mars. It felt as if I’d just crawled under the covers since I’d worked a lot later than I probably should have the night before.
My eyes were tired and filled with sand from the sandman, but I had to get up.
Being an adult is a scam.
Putting off another planned visit to my grandparents’ grave would definitely be blasphemous. I hadn’t been there since the summer before.
